


The Thing About Restaurants

by Boldly_going_places



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental First Date, M/M, Modern AU, restaurant AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2623100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boldly_going_places/pseuds/Boldly_going_places
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire enters a restaurant planning to have a solitary dinner and leaves with an invitation and a crush on a certain blue eyed revolutionary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thing About Restaurants

Grantaire had planned a really nice evening at his favorite restaurant with a plate full of pasta. This would have worked out fine if the restaurant didn’t have so many people in it.

This is why I don’t go to restaurants, Grantaire thought, too many people being all lovey or whatever.

Grantaire looked around the crowded restaurant. Maybe there was a deserted table in the corner or tucked behind a wall, but he was never so lucky.

Almost every table had two or more people at it. Almost. There was one table with only one occupant. He had a halo of deep golden curls pulled into a bun, and he had marvelous blue eyes that contrasted amazingly with his dark skin. Grantaire’s hands itched for a pencil and his sketchbook.

Standing up straight and with false confidence, he walked over to the blonde’s table.

“Is anybody sitting here?” Grantaire asked.

“I was waiting for somebody,” he said, “but they’re late. So, you can sit there.”

“Thanks,” Grantaire said, gladly taking the seat across from him. He undid his scarf and took off his hat, revealing his pale skin and unruly black curls.

Grantaire, remembering that he and the other guy were still strangers, introduced himself, “I’m R. Grantaire really, but you can call me R.”

“Enjolras,” he said.

R noticed Enjolras had an article open on representation of sexualities, genders, and race in media. R decided he liked Enjolras.

“Did I interrupt your reading?” R asked.

“No, I was finished actually,” Enjolras replied.

“How was it?”

“Insightful. It brought into view the biphobia and prejudice in media against any sexualities besides gay or straight and anybody who is not cisgendered,” Enjolras said.

Something inside Enjolras must have woken up. He seemed to be more alive than he was just moments before. With this new gleam in his eyes, Grantaire felt an inkling of familiarity in the back of his head.

Where had he seen this beautiful, driven Enjolras before?

That was it! At the cafe Grantaire went to, the Musain. Every Friday night, when R would go there with Bahorel and Éponine, there was always a group of students there, this blond at the head. From the issues Grantaire heard them discussing, they were an activist group of sorts. He didn’t know why he hadn’t recognized Enjolras earlier. Grantaire always found a moment to marvel at Enjolras when he was speaking at the meetings.

"You're part of the activist group that meets at the Musain, aren't you?" R asked, just to be sure. 

Enjolras looked pleasantly surprised. "I'm the founder actually," he said. If R wasn't mistaken he would say Enjolras looked proud. "I haven't seen you at any of the meetings."

Grantaire shrugged non-chalantly. "I go to the Musain a lot, I see you there sometimes."

Enjolras nodded. He was going to say something else when the waitress came over. She smiled and handed out two menus.

"My name's Musichetta and I'll be your server today. Can I start you off with something to drink?" She asked.

"I'll just have a water, please," Enjolras said without glancing at the menu.

"And I'll have a coke, please," R said. He had glanced at the wine menu, but held back. That was one mountain he didn't want to crawl over again.

"Sure thing. I'll be right back with those," She bustled away to the kitchen.

Enjolras and Grantaire perused the menu in silence for a while.

R knew what he wanted when he walked into the restaurant, but couldn't put his menu down. If he did, he was obligated to initiate a potentially awkward conversation.

A few minutes later, Enjolras penetrated the silence.

"What are you going to college for?" He asked.

Grantaire was thankful at least one person was brave enough to start talking.

"I want to get a BA," he answered, "How about you?"

"Law. Have you had your art in a gallery before? I've think I've seen your name on a work somewhere."

"Uh, yeah. There were a few pieces hanging up for a while in the library and a few pieces in a gallery across town," R said.

"I really liked it. I don't know a lot about art, but it was beautiful," Enjolras said, and he smiled.

R blushed. "Thanks."

Musichetta came back carrying their drinks.

“Here’s you coke and here’s your water,” she set the drinks down, “Are you all set to order or do you need a few more minutes?” 

“We’re all set,” Grantaire said, “I’ll have the chicken alfredo.”

“And I’ll have the cobb salad,” Enjolras said.

“Alright those will be out soon,” Musichetta said and took their menus. 

Grantaire, realizing they hadn’t talked about Enjolras’ group--which R actually wanted to know about--decided that would be a safe topic to go to. 

“What do you do in your group at the Musain?” He asked.

Enjolras sat up a little bit straighter.

“We talk about people’s rights and protest against things that happen against those rights,” Enjolras said, “Right now we’re planning a meet up for next month for the LGBTQ+ community to talk about experiences and what people can do to help. Also, women’s rights, civil rights, and political and societal in general. Cossette does more with the women’s rights, though.” 

Grantaire nodded. “Do you do any protests or speeches? Because I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere else before, too.” 

“Yeah, I did one recently,” He said, “It was at the square in town.” 

“You’ve got a lot of hope in people, don’t you?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras bristles. “What do you mean?” 

“Humanity’s pretty shitty, Enj, you can’t trust them to do the right thing, especially when it comes to issues that have been ingrained into it for years,” R said. 

“Humanity has been changed before, why can we not change our minds again?” Enjolras said. Grantaire’s got a feeling Enj won’t stop until he wins. 

“Maybe politically things have changed, but people are still assholes to people who don’t fit their standards of normal,” Grantaire said, “It may seem like society has changed, but it really hasn’t. And a few political groups aren’t going to help the fact.” 

Enjolras looked furious. Maybe R had gone a little too far, but he couldn’t help it. He was a cynic at heart and Enjolras’ optimism both repelled and attracted him.

“You fail to realize that society has come far. It can go further, R, and dismissing it like it’s nothing but gum on the bottom of your shoe isn’t going to help, because you’re part of it. You have to want change for it to happen and you have to believe it will,” Enjolras said. He started leaning forward a sharp tone to his voice, different than the hostility and defensive from before, but something more determined.

“I don’t believe in those things,” Grantaire said. He was at a loss for words at this point. He said what he wanted to say. 

To R’s relief, Musichetta was bringing the food over. 

“Alright, here’s your alfredo and your cobb salad. Enjoy!” She placed the plates down and walked away. 

With the food in front of him and his stomach growling, Grantaire dug in. He and Enjolras would stop occasionally to talk about art or a book they had both read or anything other than politics.

It’s not like R wasn’t as fed up with society’s stupidity as much as Enjolras was, he just didn’t believe in people as a whole to change for the  
better, at least not like Enjolras seemed to.

Long after they finished their food, Musichetta came back over, placed the bill on the table, and took the plates. 

Grantaire went to reach for it, but Enjolras got there first. 

“I’ll pay for it,” He said. 

“No it’s fine I’ll--”

“It’s fine, R, I can pay for it. You gave me an intelligent argument. Nobody I like has done that in a while.” 

Enjolras likes me? Was this a date? R asked himself, Was it an inadvertent first date? 

“I’ll pay the tip,” R said. He took out his wallet and put a fifteen down on the table. 

They walked out of the restaurant together and when Enjolras gave Grantaire his phone number, R realized this was definitely an accidental date and it was fantastic. 

“I really enjoyed talking to you tonight,” Enjolras said, “Not a lot of my friends challenge me. I guess I’ll invite you to one of the meetings. Are you free at six this Friday?” 

“Yes. Is this what you do with all your recruits?” Grantaire asked teasingly, “Charm them over dinner then ask them to join your band of revolutionaries?”

Enjolras laughed then smiled in a sweet and seductive way (though to be completely honest, everything Enjolras did was a little seductive), “Only you.”

Grantaire blushed and smiled back. 

Then more seriously Enjolras said, “I’ll try to convince you to believe in something, Grantaire.” 

“I do,” R said. 

“What?” 

“Not a what, Enj. A who. I believe in you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fan fiction that I've posted on here, thank you for reading. comments kudos are greatly appreciated.


End file.
